If I Saw You In Heaven
by M. D. Jensen
Summary: Trip and Sim meet in Heaven. Moral issues are addressed and happy reunions are had. Trip gets confused. Major spoilers. Also with postTATV alternate version, up 5.14.05.
1. Original Version

Similitude. Okay, let me say one thing: that was a freaky episode. Seriously, the moral and spiritual issues that presents (should you choose to obsess over it, like me) are extreme. There's so much to address, I fear I barely even brushed the surface here. Oh well. Hope you like it anyway.

Disclaimer: don't own Trip or Sim or any of the characters they mention. Also the title is from a non-related song but yeah… the phrase isn't mine either. 

Big spoilers for Similitude- this will ruin not only the ending but the entire episode for you.

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If I Saw You In Heaven

He was ready to die. He was 108; he had lived a good life. He was off to see his loving wife, leaving behind three wonderful daughters, a plethora of grandkids and even a Charles Tucker VI, which was pretty impressive in and out of itself. 

Trip was ready to die.

He wasn't dying a painful death, he knew as he dreamed, and he was lucky. It wasn't cancer or a heart attack…. Last night he went to sleep. Tomorrow, he wouldn't wake up. He was fine with that.

Suddenly, he was warm. It was oddly wonderful, even thought Trip really had no clue what was going on. It was an overwhelming peace, so soothing, so welcoming that he merely drifted off into the Light. 

He died.

Heaven wasn't much like he'd read about in books or seen in movies- it wasn't a cloud city, it looked more like the beaches along which he grew up. The water was clear and blue and the sand was hot under his feet. It was everything he'd hoped for.

Trip wandered over to the waterline and bent down, realizing at the same moment that, in body, he was in his twenties again. Nothing hurt, nothing cracked when he bent over and, suddenly playful, he splashed at the water with his feet and stared off, grinning at the horizon. 

A wind swirled around him, lifting his shaggy hair around his head and sending whispers running through the air. On the horizon, over the water, shapes approached. Their voices picked up slightly, and Trip caught a few phrases. Most of them were welcoming him, the rest were just saying how much they loved him and how glad they were to be together again. 

Tears stung at his eyes, the most joyful, profound tears he had ever shed. He wondered who he'd see first- T'Pol, his wonderful wife perhaps, or Jon? Lizzie, his parents and grandparents… laughing happily, he opened his arms as the shapes drew closer.

"Hello," a voice said behind him suddenly. Trip spun quickly and faced- himself? It seemed so, at least- same sandy hair, same inquisitive blue eyes. But there was something different. Breathing slightly, he took a wild guess. 

"Sim?"

Trip watched his clone- himself?- nod. "In the flesh, so to speak."

"No offense, but you're the last person I'd expect to be Heaven's welcome wagon chairperson. Wait… is this the part where I have to face my inner demons?" Trip asked hesitantly. 

Sim grinned- a cocky, half-grin that Trip knew so well. "Partially. You took care of most of 'em a long time ago- you've only got one left. Me."

Trip didn't respond, merely stared and tried not to look rude. Why was Sim- someone he'd never even met face-to-face- delaying him from his reunions, dammit? And still…

"C'mon, you've always wondered about me. Ask away," Sim offered.

"Actually, I have," Trip admitted thoughtfully. 

"What've you wondered?"

Trip thought for a moment. "You. Me. Are you me?"

"It's a tricky situation. Has been from the start," Sim replied.

"You're tellin' me. One minute I'm in Engineering, the next Jon's tellin' me I've been in a coma for two weeks and 'oh, guess what? We cloned you and killed him so you'd live.' It's weird. By the way… thanks. I never got to thank you."

Sim shook his head, his eyes slightly wistful and far too wise for his young face. "It's what I was made to do."

Trip shuddered. "Don't put it that way, 'kay? It sounds too weird."

Sim grounded himself. "Okay."

The wind picked up again. Sim's hair, which was slightly longer than Trip's own had been at that age, stuck out in all directions like some weird dirty halo. Voices still carried on the wind, but Trip focused back on Sim.

"So- _am_ I you?"

Sim looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled slightly and asked, "which came first, the chicken or the egg?"

"The chicken," Trip replied quickly, then his lips parted slightly as he grasped the full implications and wondered if he's answered correctly.

Sim didn't seem offended, though. "See, we are different. I say the egg."

Suddenly the mysticism of the statement was gone again and Trip raised his eyebrows scornfully. "We have different answers to the most famously rhetorical question in Earth's history and you think it's proves we're different people?"

"That," Sim said slowly, "and the fact that we are souls, in Heaven, and we're two different souls in Heaven."

Trip fought the urge to smack his forehead. "Oh." Then Sim grinned, and so did he. Then he stopped. "You know," he said quietly. "I meant what I said. Thank you. I don't know if I woulda just walked on into the Sickbay like that. Jon said you weren't scared to die. At that age, I was terrified of death."

"Were you scared just now?"

"No," Trip replied instantly. "It was my time." 

Sim just looked at him. "It was mine. I won't say I wasn't scared at first- hell, I tried to run away. But in the end I knew what I had to do." 

Trip nodded slightly, biting his lip as Sim looked over at the ocean. Trip watched him, knowing that they shared the same memories of beaches just like this one. 

"You know," Sim said at last. "I've had a while to think about all this. Really, we're two different people. I have your memories. But I wasn't the one who formed them. If you had put me in the same situations, I might have reacted completely differently."

"That's true," Trip agreed. "But that means I don't have any way of knowing if I would've been able to make the sacrifice you made."

Sim considered a moment, then began slowly and carefully. "I'm a good person. I did what I did because of that. You're a good person too. You risked your ass for you friends a hundred times before I was born, and I'm sure since I've died you've risked it a thousand more. Have you honestly been concerned about that for seventy-five years?"

Trip went to shake his head, then stopped. "It's been at the back of my mind, along with many other things, I think."

"Well, stop," Sim advised, and for the first time Trip realized that even though they shared so much, even the patterns and accents of Sim's speech varied from his own. "Stop worrying. You're a damn good person. You fell off the warp core and damn near killed yourself but you're a good person so just be glad I was there to save your ass," Sim scolded. 

"I owe you one," Trip replied softly. Sim's grin faded to a genuine, sincere smile. 

"I'd tell you to buy me a beer," he suggested. "But it's a little late for that."

"What now?" Trip asked slowly.

Sim sighed, and for a panicked second, Trip heard undertones of sadness. But then Sim smiled again and gestured towards the ocean. 

Appearing on the shore were everyone Trip had dreamed of- Jon, Lizzie, Mom, Dad… T'Pol. 

Tears threatened his eyes again. He made towards the figures but something held him back. He turned. "Aren't you coming?" Trip demanded. Sim looked uneasy. "They're you're friends, too," Trip reminded him.

Sim hesitated, then brightened, and Trip marveled at how young he looked. "Just remember, he warned, pointing at T'Pol. "She may have kissed you first, but she married me." Sim grinned, and Trip grabbed his arm and led them towards the water.

Hmmmm…. Well, I'm not sure how that turned out. I'm glad I managed to avoid most of the religious as opposed to the purely spiritual, if you know what I mean… I want the emotions of this applicable to everyone. Anyways, please, please, I'm begging for your opinions. _Begging._ That's it for me. See you dudes around the E-world. 


	2. Alternate Version

Disclaimer: don't own Trip or Sim or any of the characters they mention. Also the title is from a non-related song but yeah… the phrase isn't mine either.

These Are the Voyages… devastating. Heartbreaking. I rewrote this afterwards to offer some conclusion. This is an alternate version, dissimilar enough from the original that I feel it's allowable to post both.

_If I Saw You In Heaven_

_Alternate Version_

He was not ready to die. He was barely in his forties, damnit, he had a hell of a lot of life left to live. But lying in the oxygen chamber, Trip Tucker knew that his life was about to end.

Oh, shit.

At least it wasn't a painful death; the meds were seeing to that. But he was so… restless. Frustrated. This dying-young thing was total bullshit. He was not ready to die. There was so much to do first. Helplessly, he tried to beat his hands against the side of the chamber, but found he couldn't lift them. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound emerged. _Y'know__ how you figured you'd find God at the end of your life? _A little voice in his ear whispered. _You better find him fast._

Now he felt like crying, and it was getting harder to breath. At least he'd died saving lives, right? That had to count for something. An uncontrollable wave of agony coursed through his body, of grief, regret, things never said. _I didn't kiss T'Pol enough. I should've talked to Jon more. I've never told Malcolm how much he means to me, that stubborn old bastard._

Then suddenly, he was warm. It was oddly wonderful, even thought Trip really had no clue what was going on. It was an overwhelming peace, so soothing, so welcoming that he merely drifted off into the Light. Everything negative left his mind, and peace was granted to him in a single instant.

He died.

Heaven wasn't much like he'd read about in books or seen in movies- it wasn't a cloud city, it looked more like the beaches along which he grew up. It looked so much like Florida. Florida, pre-Xindi. The Florida of simpler times. The water was clear and blue and the sand was hot under his feet. It was everything he'd hoped it would be as a little boy in Sunday school.

A wind swirled around him, lifting his shaggy hair around his head and sending whispers running through the air. On the horizon, over the water, shapes approached. Their voices picked up slightly, and Trip caught a few phrases. Most of them were welcoming him, the rest were just saying how much they loved him and how glad they were to be together again. His grandparents, his sister… his daughter. Who would he see first? Tears pricked at his eyes as he realized he left behind a family, but was rejoining another. It was hard to be angry here, and Trip found that he no longer regretted his death. That feeling, just by itself, was heaven.

"Hello," a voice said behind him suddenly. Trip spun quickly and faced- himself? It seemed so, at least- same sandy hair, same inquisitive blue eyes. But there was something different. Breathing slightly, he took a wild guess.

"Sim?"

Trip watched his clone- himself?- nod. "In the flesh, so to speak."

"No offense, but you're the last person I'd expect to be Heaven's welcome wagon chairperson."

Sim grinned- a cocky, half-grin that Trip knew so well. "Yeah. I know."

Trip didn't respond, merely stared and tried not to look rude. Why was Sim- someone he'd never even met face-to-face- delaying him from his reunions, dammit?

"I know you're impatient," Sim said gently. "You're going to see them in a moment."

"What, I have to face my demons first or something?" Trip snapped.

"No. I'm just here to show you the way."

Trip paused. "That's strange."

"You do seem to find yourself in strange situations," Sim commented. "Especially with genetics, have you noticed that? I mean, there's me, there's Elizabeth…"

"Don't you talk about her!" Trip exclaimed. A shadow of the anger returned.

"Relax," Sim told him. "You're in heaven. She's in heaven. You can see her right now."

Trip froze. "I… what?"

Sim stared out at the sea, and waved as though beckoning someone. Trip turned to see who.

His knees went instantly weak. His sister Elizabeth stood before him, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze. A bundle was in her arms.

Trip went to her, kissed her cheek, and accepted the baby from her. His little girl, with his eyes and T'Pol's ears. He hadn't known her for long, but he loved her all the same. Trip felt himself break down crying, felt Lizzie's arms go around his neck and hug him. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes and opening his mouth to speak, but finding that no words were needed.

In that moment, he was perfectly, blissfully happy.

Lizzie grinned. "Your little heroics were kinda stupid, you know that, big brother? But so brave. I missed you, though. Is it selfish of me to be glad you're here?"

Trip smiled back at her. "I'm not offended."

Lizzie looked down at Elizabeth, a reached out to stroke her hair. "I have a niece," she murmured happily. "I can't believe you named her after me."

"I wasn't gonna name her after grandma Gerty," Trip replied quietly, still smiling. The tears falling down his face were tears of pure joy.

"Speaking of Gram," Lizzie said, "are you ready to go?"

Trip wiped the tears from his face and nodded. He was ready; he was so ready. Away from his demons, away from his mistakes. Away from his life, and across the ocean.

"You come too," he told Sim. "They're your family, too, really."

Lizzie smiled, her arm around Trip's waist, and Elizabeth cooed in her father's hold. Sim led them towards the water.

Maybe Trip was okay with this, after all.


End file.
